TransAm Day #47 Wisdom, MT

TransAm Day #47

July 12, 2018

Wisdom, MT - Darby, MT

59 Miles

Ride Time 3:58 Hours

Tour Total Miles 3375

details at: https://cyclemeter.com/4b2d99e24f1383f2/Cycle-20180712-1031-94344

This morning I woke up in my tent in the American Legion Memorial Park in Wisdom, and felt like a wreck. I had no idea where Scott and Eileen were. When I had gotten up in the middle of the night, I had mistakenly thought the large rock next to me was Scott’s tent. The stars above were amazing! Cows in a nearby pasture moo-ed, bulls hissed, and coyotes howled all night long. I heard people laughing in the early morning. A pair of cyclists had camped in the park, but not my companions. Where were they?

With my tail between my legs I slinked back in to The Crossing for breakfast. The morning waitress was extremely friendly. There was no phone or internet service in Wisdom, but I was able to link back up with Scott and Eileen through the restaurant’s WiFi. They had been unable to find the park, and had camped in town in an alley next to somebody's house. Apparently a wild horse had run right past them during their drunken nocturnal escapade.

I had huevos rancheros, and after breakfast went to the post office where my replacement reading glass were supposedly waiting. Eileen retrieved her Amazon package at the grocery store. I knocked on everybody’s door; the gas station, the cafe, the telephone company, the general store who called the owners of the rental property next to the post office. Nobody knew where the FedEx guy left my Amazon package yesterday at 4:55pm. I have bi-focal sunglasses and goggles, but it would be really nice to have a pair of readers again.

Wisdom’s population is 119, and it feels like everyone now knows who we are. It really feels like the wild wild west, and it was such a relief to get out of town. I haven’t showered for two days and I’m wearing the same clothes as yesterday. I need a shave.

I felt really bad about last night. I don’t want to be an ugly cyclist or obnoxious easterner. The moral of the story in Wisdom is that if someone is not nice, be nice back no matter what. We apologized to the owner of The Crossing and Eileen gave ten dollars to be handed to our waitress from last night.

Today there was a seven mile long 1700’ climb over Chief Joseph Pass. I’ve been passing dozens of dead birds for the past couple of days. I assume they’ve been hit by cars, and I’ve resisted the urge to pluck their feathers. I passed blue stains on the roadway and adjoining grass as part of an effort to control invasive weeds. I pedaled ten miles an hour and the mosquitoes were still able to catch up with me. One bit me right through my gloves.

My tour was scheduled to end one month from today in Astoria where Charlotte will meet me. I’m about ten days ahead of schedule, and I’m thinking about visiting friends in Portland and then Santa Cruz. I’m leaning towards finishing the tour first, and shipping my bike back to Brooklyn. I can then hop on a bus south. It’s hard to believe that my tour is slowly coming to an end.

I visited Big Hole Battlefield National Monument. It was a profoundly sad experience. There were boxes full of tissues in the center, and I came close to needing some. The Nez Perce were slaughtered here by American Forces. The tribe was cheated, when the terms of an agreement were changed. It’s an ugly chapter of American history, and it’s hard not to draw a parallel to the current Israeli Palestinian conflict. Power is not justice.

Scott and Eileen rode right past the monument which later I told them was like riding past the Auschwitz memorial without stopping. In the visitors center I also learned about some of the flora and fauna I’ve been seeing. The violet flowers alongside the road are called Camas. I’ve seen Black-Billed Magpies and Cliff Swallows. The rodents scurrying alongside the road are Columbian Ground Squirrels. Yesterday I saw one scooped up by a Golden Eagle.

I elected not to do the ACA alternative route over Gibbons pass. It was rock and gravel, and I did that yesterday to get to Bannack. My front tire is too thin for gravel. I made my way up Chief Joseph pass, and was feeling good. I did two thirds of the climb in high gears with no aches or pain. The pass was steep for the last two miles. I stopped to charge my phone and was attacked by horseflies. The voracious insects literally chased me up the last stretch. Ten miles an hour seems to be their limit, and I was only going six.

At the top of the pass I crossed the Continental Divide for the umpteenth time. I also came into contact with the Idaho border, which I didn’t cross because it would have made things too confusing for my readers. It’s important to keep things simple and linear, which is why I haven’t mentioned all my Continental Divide crossings.

The downhill on the northern side of the pass was a 3000’ descent over thirteen miles. It was a steep hill with plenty of switchbacks. There were rockslides and I had to be careful not to hit any of the jagged stones littering the roadway. There was a headwind which prevented me from going any faster than twenty five miles an hour.

I noticed a road-side boat inspection station to prevent invasive aquatic species from getting over the continental divide. After the pass I entered the Bitterroot River Valley. Here in September 1805, Lewis and Clark‘s expedition was welcomed by a large band of Salish Indians .

I sat at the grocery store in Sula to wait for Eileen and Scott. I dried out my tent and fly under the sun. I’m starting to notice carved wooden bears integrated into the ranch gates. There’s something kitsch and un-cowboy about it. One would never see such a ranch gate in Wyoming.

I wound my way down the Bitterroot Valley through tight winding hills that eventually opened up to a wide valley. It was a gorgeous ride. In Darby I headed to the Bandit Brewery, where Scott and Eileen met me. I felt a shift here in Darby. It seems less cowboy/wild-west and more Pacific Northwest.

Tonight we’re staying with Warm Showers host Curtis, who used to be a long distance truck driver. A few years ago he made the switch from eighteen wheels to two. His dog Loki ate my glove when I arrived. Curtis made us an epic pasta dinner and treated us to samples of mead. I was psyched to see Michael Riscica’s name in his guestbook.